


Stone Rollin'

by wartransmission



Series: Cold War Transmissions [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-26
Updated: 2011-12-26
Packaged: 2017-10-28 03:47:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/303398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wartransmission/pseuds/wartransmission
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Homesmut prompt:</p><p><em>I can't be the only one who thinks this right? I mean, Jake is out there raiding ruins and wrestling monsters while Bro sits inside making robots and talking to his own programs. I just want to see Jake being more physically dominant for a change.</em></p><p>(Mostly readable as it is without having to read the other fics.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stone Rollin'

**Author's Note:**

> Wherein the author half-asses the title by randomly choosing something from her playlist. Huzzah! I'm not really one to write smut, but I was tempted so badly when I checked on livejournal and saw the [prompt](http://homesmut.livejournal.com/12138.html?thread=24759402#t24759402). /derp
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy!

With all things considered, life is doing you both quite well. You manage to get by with your earnings from DJ-ing and fixing computers up, and Jake’s working as one of those tools you usually see on TV who keep talking like they know shit about the animals that they always bother; difference being, you _know_ that Jake knows how to handle these creatures and he _does_ actually give a shit about them. (Notwithstanding the fact that he still adores hunting gazelle and under relevant animals to hang their heads around the apartment.)

Living a nice life doesn’t actually equal to wasting your time getting each other hot and bothered every second of the day/week/year, but Jake abuses that reason for so many times that you don’t even bother to count any more.

Like how he’s abusing it now, which isn’t really odd considering how he did that this morning when you woke up, then after breakfast, and you’re sure as hell grateful that he had to work this afternoon or else you’d have died of too much _sex._ Shit, you didn’t think he’d meant it when he said that he was sexually frustrated.

“Quite the dominant streak today, English.” You say as he practically rips your shirt just trying to get you naked. “I’ve not had many normal relationships in my lifetime, but I never thought that getting into a scuffle with your boyfriend can lead to sex.”

“It’s not as much of a rarity as you’d like to think it is.” Jake grins with all teeth and places a peck on your lips before tugging at your pants until you’re down to…nothing. You probably should have worn your boxers before anything, but it’s too late for that now. The grin on Jake’s face changes into something predatory and, admittedly, it gets to you. And your dick, if you had anything to say about it. “Commando?”

“Lazy.” You shrug and try to ignore the stirrings of arousal when he presses a kiss to your neck. “’sides, I know you like it when I’m easy to get naked. Lessens the number of clothes lost.”

“Sorry,” he murmurs non-apologetically into your ear. “Can’t really help myself.”

“I think I know why.” You slide your foot up from his thigh to his crotch, lazily pressing against the heat hiding under his boxers. He looks at you, eyes half-lidded with a grin raring to bite, before pressing down against your foot and rolling his hips. “But I’m not certain if I’m right. Care to show me?”

He chuckles. “Gladly.”

 

\-----------------Transition in point of view to emphasize how messy it actually was------------------

 

You kiss him. It’s that simple, nothing really there to explain, but it’s soft. Hesitant. You press harder and he presses back with just as much force, never pushing any more than you are, and you realize exactly what it is that he’s giving you. You pull away to look at him, all mussed up hair and eyes half-lidded and you’re not young any more, you’re a bit older than you use to be after all those years, but there’s still something in your loins that burns and burns and you can’t put the fire out because you’re not him, you’re not blond hair and amber eyes and smooth in all curves yet sharp with each angle.

You press a kiss to his temple, to his ear, to his jaw, to his neck, to his shoulder, and he shudders. Each kiss is too gentle, warm with want, but not burning. It’s too soon, too soon, and you trace a hand down until it’s leaving teasing touches on his skin and he’s writhing with _need_ underneath you. He’s glaring and pleading with his eyes, asking for more yet cursing you all the same for being too calm. You can’t stifle the small laugh that escapes your mouth when you wrap your hand around his cock and he moans and sighs and it’s all sweet music to your ears that you can never get tired of.

He moans again when you twist your hand just so, his hands clawing at your back as he tries to get more. But you’re not going to make this easy, no, and you take your hand away. He growls and glares at you and you laugh, far too amused with how much you can take from him but never give. Not yet, not yet.

“I’m going to fucking kill you,” he murmurs with sweet lust and anger, and you laugh again.

“You can’t do that,” you murmur back with fingers dancing on the region of skin above his groin, “because if you did, who’s going to do this for you?”

You leave a trail of kisses over his neck and shoulder before finally biting down and marking him, and he groans. He knows that he’s yours, yours to kiss and yours to touch, and he wants so much of what you’re going to give him. “Turn over,” you murmur into his ear.

He does as asked and lies on his stomach, his arms automatically folding themselves under his chin for lack of having any other place to go. You reach over to the bedside table and retrieve the bottle of lube you’ve stashed in it, hands already used to the routine of popping the cap open and lathering calloused fingers with cool gel. You slide your fingers along the length of his back, letting him shudder beneath you as you trace cool wet lines over his spine and under until you’ve reached just above the crack of his ass and he’s already hiding his face in his arms.

You don’t bother to hide the grin on your face when you notice the redness reaching up to his ears. He squirms when you press a finger to his entrance, never pushing in but slicking what skin there is with lube. He moves just a bit forward until he’s on his knees and you tease him again but he doesn’t let you this time, he’s far too frustrated already, and he pushes. You blink at the sudden aggression but push your finger in nonetheless, the surprise on your face fading to make way for smug satisfaction when he makes a muffled sound into his arms.

“You know what I want to hear, Strider,” you murmur into the skin of his nape as you keep your finger inside him, never actually moving and just staying there, teasing him mercilessly. He hisses when you try to pull away and immediately tightens around your finger, his face making a reappearance just to glare at you in flushed anger.

“ _Please,_ ”he croaks out with red lips from being chewed on, “please.”                                  

You smile brightly, pushing your finger in more and more but never giving him enough. He moans in frustration. You say, “You’re being vague, love. Please what?”

“I want more of you,” he bites out, amber eyes looking down at his arms. You press a soft kiss into his temple as he murmurs, a little bit more agreeably, “More of you inside me. Please.”

You chuckle and nip at his earlobe, moving down to press kisses on his shoulder as you add another finger into the mix. He bites his lip again and cocks his head back, beautiful and yours, not a sound coming from his mouth as he breathes heavily under your ministrations. You push your finger in and out, again and again, and he moans. You add another finger, and another, until you’ve got three inside him and he’s still not satisfied. He moans and sighs and whimpers when you pull out and thrust your fingers back in, your fingers long and thick inside of him but never enough.

“Jake,” he groans and you bite your lip, the stirrings of arousal already close to becoming an ache inside your boxers. “I can’t- I can’t-”

You kick off your boxers to the side, inhaling a breath when the cool air hits your bare skin. You pull out your fingers and he breathes shakily, his body already shuddering from all the repressed pleasure. “I won’t be able to stop myself,” you warn him, voice husky from lack of water and something else, something darker and needier. “I might-”

“Don’t give a fuck, just put your dick in me and get it over with holy shit.”

You laugh, “Okay. Okay.” You take the condom he throws at you, ripping the package open with your teeth before rolling it onto your cock.

His breath hitches when you crawl closer, your heat close but not near enough when you press a kiss into his upper back. He relaxes, soft breathing and small sighs, and you push in. His breath hitches again and he tenses, his fingers clawing subtly at the sheets beneath you as you stop moving. You press more kisses along his back, breathing softly onto his skin as you keep your hips still, hard task it may be. You don’t want to hurt him more.

A few seconds of slow breathing and he’s already rocking into you, trying to get more of you inside him with small muffled sounds into his arms. You wince at how much of it goes down to your groin, stirring more arousal into you until you’re really just _aching._ It takes all of your will to push in slowly, not even breathing when you feel how tight he is around you.

God, it hurts.

He grunts into his arms as he pushes his hips back, his eyes clenched shut as he holds down his moans. You groan out loud, eyes clenching shut and blinking open to see his shivering body trying to move against you. _Too much, too much._

You mutter a hazy “I’m sorry” before pulling out and thrusting in completely, your fists clenching into sheets beneath you as you move your hips erratically against his. You try to keep some sort of rhythm at first, try to take it slow, but you can’t because it’s too good, too much, too overwhelming and pleasurable and god, all of the blood in your brain is already down south by now with all of his moaning. He doesn’t complain, never does, but he moans and keens and you thrust harder to get more of that warm wetness around you and it’s like you’ve gotten a fever with how hot it all is, how dazed you already are and he keeps rocking into you and moaning and cursing and babbling nonsense as he hides his face in his arms.

He hisses when you stop abruptly, your cock still very hard inside him as he looks back at you with a searing glare. You grin crookedly before kissing him, nipping at his lower lip and moving your hips again and he groans into your mouth, all want and need and burning lust as he cranes his head back to kiss you while rocking his hips against yours.

“Wanted to see your face,” you mumble in between kisses. He laughs at you, his lips twisting into a lusty smirk as he keeps pushing back against your hips. Your breath hitches a notch when he deliberately tightens around you, the smirk still on his face as he licks your lips.

“Same here,” he murmurs softly. You laugh again and kiss him some more, the position making your neck ache just a bit but it doesn’t really matter because you don’t want to let go of him, not yet, and neither does he. You keep thrusting, slowing in your pace as he kisses you like he won’t be able to do it again and it really makes you want to cry because you’ve waited for so long, for so many damn years, but you have him now and you’re never ever going to let him go again.

He inhales sharply, a shudder racking at his spine as he uses one hand to clutch at your arm with the other holding him up weakly. “ _Fuck_ , I’m close, I can’t-“

You bury your face into the crook of his neck and shoulder and he chokes on a moan, his one hand clawing at the sheets as he orgasms. He keeps moaning and cursing “fuck Jake too good I can’t ah- ah-” and you groan, your own orgasm piercing through you as you thrust deeply into him until you can’t move any more, too paralyzed with pleasure to even notice the scratch marks you already have on your arm from his nails.

A fleeting silence envelops you both when you roll off of him onto his side, a sated grin on your face as you watch him hide his face in his arms again. You make a face when you remove the condom and tie it up, immediately throwing it into the bin beside the bed. You murmur softly with a little laugh, “Good thing we already ate dinner, hm?”

“Yeah.” He hums before unfolding his arms and rolling onto his side. He closes his eyes as you push away the hair sticking onto his face, sighing softly when you keep your hand on his hair even when he already has his eyes open. “Think you’ll be okay with making breakfast tomorrow? My legs feel like twigs.”

“I can do that.” You grin when he places his hand on top of yours. “Shouldn’t we shower before going to sleep?”

“Fuck that shit. I’m sleepy.” He moans as he nuzzles his face into the pillow under his head.

“Then tomorrow you’ll complain about your filth and lock yourself up in the bathroom, complaining that you need to get your ablutions on when I tell you that I need to shower for work?”

“Yes, exactly.” He hums with eyes closing. You roll your eyes but don’t say anything more against it, only making a motion to remove your glasses and place them on the bedside table.

“Mm. Goodnight, then.” You yawn.

“Night.”

You won’t ask him about it, but you know that he murmurs “I love you” when you’re already very close into the realm of sleep (but not exactly). You’ll let him keep that little secret to himself.


End file.
